


Caught

by franxisss



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 07:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16279925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franxisss/pseuds/franxisss
Summary: When two undercover police officers accidentally cross wires in an investigation, Officer Jones’ job is put on hold. But when the man he confused for his suspect is so damn cute, how can Alfred be upset?





	Caught

**Author's Note:**

> Another short one-shot because I got bored. Based on a prompt I saw on @spaceusuk's blog on Tumblr. 
> 
> Note: Mention of sex trafficking!!

“Officer Jones, do you understand your assigned location?” The hidden dispatch dashboard of his unmarked vehicle spoke, the end of his boss’ speech marked with a loud beep. 

“Affirmative. Motel on South 7th. Got it, pulling up now.” Alfred nodded, looking at the street sign before taking a right, pulling up to a decrepit motel with flickering street lamps swarmed with gnats. “I’ve pulled up now.” 

Alfred, for the decorated officer he was, wasn’t so decorated during this particular trip. He was actually entirely casual, wearing an unironed button down and khaki jeans with a fat wallet intentionally poking out from the side. He gets out of the car and walks up to his designated room. 

The door swings open, and Alfred suddenly understands why his suspect has a long hit list of clients. The man standing in front of him has a limber build, and the clothes on his body threatened to slip off of his shoulders, before that sweet, sweet British drawl greets him. 

“Evening, Mr. Jones~” The Breton purred, eyeing the man’s wallet. “Did I state my price?” He pulls Alfred into the room, pushing him up against the wall gently. “$200 an hour.”

Alfred grins. “I remember it being $150 on our arrangement, but, hey…” He shakes his head. “I don’t have it in writing, and I can’t turn down that ass for $50.”

Arthur grinned. “Smart choices, smart choices.” He turns away from Alfred, beginning to remove his clothes and leading him to the sinking queen bed in the room. “Speaking of choices, you have a lot. I can do so much for you, love~ Pick your poison~” 

Alfred follows him to the bed, sinking down against him and kissing his neck. “Poison,” he chuckles, shaking his head, before growling and throwing him down roughly with his forearm over Arthur’s throat. “What an ironic choice of words, Mr. Arthur Bristol. Is that how you killed all those men?”

Arthur looks appalled, shoving Alfred off of him and standing up. “Excuse me?! Just what the hell are you talking about?!”

Alfred tosses Arthur back down to the bed, this time on his stomach. He reaches under his shirt to grab a pair of handcuffs, and Arthur struggles. 

“Fuck, back up! I need back up!” Alfred shouts, and three other officers burst in the room, their guns already cocked and aimed at the Breton on the bed. However, he had already maneuvered from his position and was holding his own pistol, accompanied by an official badge. 

“What the hell--” Alfred was cut off. 

“Officer Arthur Kirkland of CC Division, I’m investigating a prostitute ring! Disarm yourselves!” 

“What county?!” Alfred huffs, flashing his own badge. 

“West Village, disarm yourselves!” Arthur shouts on the defense, backing up and resting his finger on the trigger. Alfred huffs, holding a hand up to his men to lower their guns. 

“West Village is a three hour drive, officer, what the hell are you doing on an investigation in this jurisdiction?” Alfred questioned, offering Arthur’s shirt back to him. The latter accepts it. 

“Sex trafficking. I’m trying to get our ringmasters in my view. I have a feeling our investigations aren’t related.” Arthur huffs, pulling his shirt over his head and grabbing a coat from under the bed. 

Alfred covers his face in embarrassment, looking down. “N-No, I don’t think so either. I’m looking for a known hooker under a pseud of Arthur Bristol, he works this motel on…” He pulls his statement out, examining it. “South 7th street.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow. “South 7th? Officer, this is West 7th. And I’m a bit unnerved your suspect shares the same name as me.” 

“My boss is gonna be so pissed.”

“I can say the same,” Arthur sighs, sitting on the bed and slicking his hand through his hair. “Both of our cases are blown.”

\---

“You had the wrong address?” The man spoke with a loud boom, slamming his fist on the table. “Mr. Jones, you had armed back up! If someone had shot when he pulled his gun, you would have been responsible for the death of an innocent man!”

“I...I understand, will you just- Will you just listen please-”

“Listen to your sorry excuse as to how you fucked up a street sign reading West 7th to South?” 

“There was a pothole! It shook my glasses and I couldn’t read, sir, you can send someone to the scene and confirm. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, you fucked Officer Kirkland’s case up as well. The unsub in his trafficking case saw your men’s cars and aborted. Off the face of the Earth, no one on Kirkland’s team can find him or the poor hookers he’s abducting.” The man shakes his hand. “Gun and your badge.” 

“What?! Sir, with all due respect, I apologize! You can’t fire me!” Alfred stood up in defense, gripping the table. 

“At ease, Jones! I’m not firing you, you’re on leave. Your gun and your badge, please.” 

Alfred slowly sighs, sitting back down and sliding his pistol and badge across the desk. In frustration, he stands up and leaves the office, groaning as he tilts his head back in his car. 

A loud tap at his window opens his eyes, and he rolls it down. Arthur leans down to his eye level. “Good evening.” 

“Hey,” Alfred sighs. “What’cha doin’ down here still?”

“I was consulting with one of your lieutenants to see if there was anything we could do about finding my unsubs. But, uh, they couldn’t get anywhere with me.”

Alfred sighs, shaking his head. “Officer, I am so sorry for blowing your cover, I had no idea--”

“It’s quite alright,” Arthur pauses him. “And you can call me Arthur. I was actually wondering if you’d like to discuss this over some drinks.”

“Aren’t you still on a dispatch? Your boss doesn’t hate you yet, I’m not gonna get you busted for drinking on a job.” 

“They took me off the case. That’s why your lieutenant wouldn’t give me anything. So, no, I’m not at work right now.” Arthur smiled a bit, and Alfred offers him the passenger door, to which he accepts and climbs into the car. 

“Drinks it is, then~”

\---

Arthur laughed loudly, and the noise of content was bright enough to power the whole world. Alfred grinned just by the sound of it. 

“What? I’m serious!” Alfred chuckled, shaking his head and putting his hands up. “If I wasn’t working, I probably would have finished business with you!”

Arthur giggled and took another swig from his drink, before giggles return to his chest. “You’re terrible! A police officer offering business to a prostitute, you’re sick.”

Alfred smiles, shrugging his shoulders. “Urges, what can I say?”

Arthur laughs again, his face turning bright. “I’m hoping the buldge in your pants was your gun.” 

“If that’s what makes you feel better, go ahead and tell yourself that~” Alfred shot, and the Breton was once again debauched into a fit of laughter. Alfred’s smile grows wider. 

“You’re good..” Arthur smiles, humming and looking at the man across the table. “Say,” he tilts his head, “I’m an awful drive away from home, and it’s pretty dark. Mind if I stay at your place tonight?”

Alfred grins at the sultry and seductive look on Arthur’s face. “I thought you’d never ask~”

\---

The blaring of an old-fashioned digital alarm wakes Arthur up before Alfred. The naked Breton lifts himself from the sheets and looks around the strange bedroom, before blushing when he remembers last nights’ encounters. 

Alfred groans and turns over, turning the alarm off and wrapping an arm around Arthur’s waist. He smirks and kisses his stomach. 

“Hey, you’d make good money as a hooker--”

Arthur promptly slaps him over the shoulder, but the American only laughs and sits up straight to kiss his neck. 

“That’s not how you get a second date.” Arthur smiles, standing up to get dressed. Alfred follows suit with an interested look. 

“You want a second date?”

Arthur smiles, shrugging. “I wouldn’t mind. A bit of a drive between us, but I was charged off my current case so I have some time down here. Let me hang around and dinner’s on me tonight~”

Alfred smiles widely, shrugging. “...Sounds like a date, then.”


End file.
